The First Days of a New Life

            I've written before about the blessing of feeling at home in so many different places, and I’m reminded of that everyday that I wake up in this beautiful city. I moved to Vienna two weeks ago, and it has been a whirlwind of exhausting activity and utter excitement. I spent most of the first week shopping and assembling furniture with one of my best friends, without whose help I’m not sure I would have survived. Once my apartment was in habitable condition, I was left with the errands and bureaucracy that go along with a move to another country. At some point this past week, I finally sat back and realized that while there was much I could and probably should do, for the first time since I arrived in Vienna, there was nothing I had to do. That is when I really started enjoying my new life.

Oberlaa Cafe, Währinger Strasse

Volksoper Subway Station

            One day, I woke up and went for a wander through my neighborhood. I stopped by the Lebanese snack shop downstairs to say hi to my new Arabic-speaking buddy I had met a few days earlier. I told him I need to improve my Arabic, so he only speaks to me in Arabic now, and I’m really excited about the practice. A little further up the street, I wandered through one of the nearby parks, and then found my way to my local wine shop. The place is filled with all sorts of goodies from wine and liquor to gourmet foods, and the shopkeeper was happy to help me pick out a good local bottle of wine. A bit in the opposite direction, I took a stroll through the Kutschkermarket, my local fresh produce market. I have yet to try the food at the small snack stand operated by the market cheese booth, but the food looks and smells delicious. The old folks of the neighborhood hang out and gossip on the benches under the large tree in front of the market. Across the street is a well-known coffee shop and patisserie, and an ice cream shop next door. The Italian restaurant down the way has stereo-typically slow Italian waiters, but the food is generally quite good, and they have the best bruschetta in town.

Kutschkermarkt

Freyung Passage

Palais Ferstil

            I met some of my classmates Wednesday evening for a drink, and then Felix and I went for a Lebanese meal at my old standard across from the University. The manager was happy to see me again after an extended absence. I’ve also been doing my best to catch up with old friends that I haven’t seen in quite some time. Remembering the old days when we were so young and naïve leaves the mind lingering in a nostalgic state, but then we shift to current activities and learning about what has and has not changed about us since those younger days.

Cafe Museum, Karlsplatz

Karlsplatz

            On Saturday, I started the day off with a walk through the inner city stopping briefly to enjoy the music and festivities of a small wine festival being hosted by one of the banks. What better way to recruit new accounts than free-flowing wine, a brass band, and bankers in lederhosen? The occasional yodel brought a smirk to my face and a strange sense of comfort to my heart. Shortly thereafter, a group of protestors marched by, trailed by the police, carrying a sign advocating women’s rights. The young protestors seemed to have their real objectives tangled up in an adolescent sense of rebellion, and they stumbled over their angry chants. “Kein Gott, Kein Staat, Kein Patriarchie!” they would yell twice, but the third time people started forgetting what they were supposed to say. Eventually, the whole group was mumbling until the group leader would use the loud speaker to get everyone back on track again. It bothered me that they chanted for an end to religion and politics as part of their mission to help women, but my concerns quickly subsided along with the annunciation of their slogan.

Erste Bank Wine Festival am Graben

Kohlmarkt

Am Graben

Hoch- und Deutschmeister Band

            Two of my classmates met me to see the Hoch- und Deutschmeister Band perform their last march of the summer season. The band is a throwback to the old military bands of the Austrian Empire, and we marched behind them through the city to the Hofburg Palace where we lounged in the sun beneath the oxidized bronze glare of a Roman-styled Austrian Emperor while the band played classics like “The Beautiful Blue Danube.”

            After a quick tour of the inner city, we met up with yet more of our classmates to grab an introductory drink and get to know each other a bit before classes start. I am almost certainly the oldest in my class, which is a new feeling for me, but not an unpleasant one. Later in the afternoon, we browsed through the Naschmarkt, the large outdoor food market in town. That evening, I met up with another old friend and his girlfriend for some drinks and a very pleasant dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. Maybe (or almost certainly) I’m a bit odd, but nothing feels quite so empowering as being personally greeted by the owner and waiters of a restaurant. It probably means that I eat out too much, or just eat too much in general, but the false sense of importance it gives me is one of my more harmless vices.

            I started Sunday off with a couchsurfing brunch near Spittelberg, where I met some really fun people and even another alumnus of my high school. Afterwards, I took two new visitors to Vienna for a cold wet walk around the rainy city. They seemed to be in awe of the grand palatial buildings and rich history and culture of which Vienna is full. A quick prayer at St. Stephens Cathedral, and we were once again wandering down a chilly Kärtnerstrasse. My companions soon asked about the possibility of seeing a classical concert, and I was immediately on my phone checking schedules. It just so happened that a concert at the Musikverein was starting in 15 minutes, so we picked up our pace and made it just in time to grab a couple tickets and relax in the warmth of the concert. An added perk was the appearance of the 86 year old composer Friedrich Cerha after the orchestra had just performed one of his works.

Musikverein

            Sitting back and staring at the gilded details of the ceiling while the mind absorbed the peaceful melancholy of the Ravel piece that the pianist played, I couldn’t stop thinking about how fortunate I really am.

            

Feast of St. John

I'm still enjoying a relaxing week in Roumieh with very little activity, and I have embraced it knowing that my friend Patrick is arriving on Friday night, so we'll have lots of touring to do together. Yesterday, I did make it down to Beirut for coffee with a classmate from the LFB program at IMD in Switzerland, which was great. We got caught up a little bit, discussed business and family, enjoyed some refreshing drinks and agreed to meet up again before I leave Lebanon.

Today is the feast of St. John the Baptist (Mar Youhanna), and he happens to be one of the patron saints of Roumieh, so every year they have a big mass down at the old Mar Youhanna church down the mountain. I went down with some of the cousins to celebrate the mass, and it was a beautiful way to spend the evening. People native to Roumieh from near and far came for the mass, and the choir had practiced for weeks for the occasion. Nassif and his fiancee were the star performers, and their voices were exquisite. Hearing the old style music, while the sun was setting in the distance and the priest honored St. John, was wonderful.

Following mass, everyone gathered to enjoy freshly baked cakes, sweets and manoushe. After a while, Mounira and I decided to walk back up to her place, which was a more intense hike than I had anticipated, but I suppose I had to make some sort of pilgrimage in reverence to St. John. Of course, half of the village stopped their cars on the way up to offer us a ride, but I, perhaps stupidly, insisted on walking. By the time we made it to Mounira's, I stopped for a glass of water and then continued home because I was in dire need of an ice cold shower. Only moments away from heat stroke, I was home, cooling off and preparing for an early night.